Flatmates
by Pankeiko
Summary: Another quick fiction, this time about Sebastian Moran and Jim Moriarty, how they met and how they started their business in my opinion. Enjoy!


Sleep was the best thing to do, yes. Sleep has always been the best solution to all of his problem, and since he came back from Afghanistan and started to share a flat with one of the most annoying men in London, sleep was also the only form of peace that Sebastian Moran had left.

Because he had never been tormented by the nightmares other soldiers had, he never carried war scars which were more than merely physical, and he never regretted killing anyone.

Still, when he came back he found himself incapable of resuming his former job, and with the money he got from the army he couldn't afford to live decently. Luckily he didn't have a family nor anything else that would have drown him even more, but he still had to look for a way to save money.

Unfortunately, this way came out to be Jim Moriarty, a rather strange guy, probably gay, with some sort of psychotic illness which constantly sang along Bee Gee's songs and always decided to make noise at the most wrong hours possible.

As he was doing now, when after another day of useless efforts to find a good job Sebastian had decided to go to bed, mostly to avoid being molested my that weirdo.

But, alas!, Jim never cared about that. He always decided to turn on the television at the loudest volume possible, or start cooking making all these kind of annoying noises that he never stood, like the clatters of frying pans or the loud thumps of closing drawers.

The first times, it was easy for him to ignore the guy and pretend to be asleep until peaceful sleep actually caught him, but in cases like this very one, this was almost impossible.

The sound coming from the kitchen was unbelievably loud, as if he was grinding a human body with a mincer. Sebastian could have been patient about this, except for the fact that this was the sixth night in a row that he was being kept awake.

This time, he decided to face his flatmate. He didn't see him very much, as he was either in the streets looking for some... Interesting job (really, he didn't have to be a hitman, but also getting rid of dead bodies was fun) or in his room, sleeping or hiding from the other.

Really, that guy freaked him out.

But tonight he decided to face him, as said, rifle in hand. Yes, he decided to kill the guy - face, murder, what' the difference? - and he would do that as soon as he entered the kitchen.

But when he did, he was surprised to find Jim, wearing a pink apron and indeed _grinding a dead body with a mincer_. That was weird, to say the least, but all he could came out with was a grunt.

"I hope that's not tomorrow's dinner." he stated, standing in the doorway.

"Of course not, Sebastian, not ours at least!" the other chirped, not even looking at the sniper behind him. "Now, put that dangerous weapon down, you know that's not how intelligent adults resolve their problems!"

Sebastian didn't even question himself about how did he know his intentions, nor why the other was destroying a corpse. He just put the rifle on the table ever so gently, as if he was placing his own child in his cradle, and then took a sit at the table.

Jim turned around and the apron flapped around him, a sneaky smile on his sharp face. He didn't seem the lousy guy he first met, but a proper psycho.

"Nice apron." Sebastian barked, irritated by the lack of sleep and by the other's coy act, consisting in a gasp, a small glance at himself and a flattered gesture with his hand, as if he had received the best compliment ever.

"Oh, it's nothing special. Honey, you should see me in a glown!" Jim chirped again, even more irritating than before.

Sebastian snorted and crossed his arms, waiting for the other to explain something.

"I wonder why you never asked me if I knew someone who could give you a job. I know you miss the war, and even if you didn't know that I own the greatest criminal empire ever asking your flatmate is always the first thing to do!"

"Criminal empire?"

"Yes, I buy stuff here, sell other things there, kill people and blackmail others. Oh, and then I am - how I like to describe myself - a consulting criminal. People come and ask me advice. Weren't you wondering how I managed to live?"

"I assumed you worked part-time or something. Not that I really care, I just want to sleep. We can talk about the job - and the paycheck - tomorrow, but now please, try not to be so loud if you don't want to be ground with that guy." Moran threatened the other, standing up and taking his rifle back in his room.

"Don't you worry, Sebby, you won't even notice me!"

"Call me that another time and I'll skin you."

"Oh, I like the sound of that! Skin me... And then what?"

"I don't know, I could make you into a wallet or a purse."

"Why not shoes? Oh, I'd love a pair of human leather shoes! I'm sure they'd fit perfectly with my Westwoods!"

"I don't care, let me sleep."

"Okey-dokey, Sebby!"

"..."

"Ah-ah-ah-ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive~"

"Quit it."

The next day, Sebastian bought earplugs and got back to his sleep, as well as started his job as rightarm of James Moriarty, the most dangerous (and annoying) criminal mastermind the world had ever seen.

So, I've got this headcanon of Moran being a really bored man, unattached to life and everything, not cruel but just disinterested in other's life and whatnot. This is my idea of how they've met, a bit like Sherlock and John, just that Jim sorted things out to end as he wanted them to.  
>Also Jim would be this very annoying flatmate, you know he would.<p>

How the romance (?) started, I will never know (for now).

Yes, I wrote this for the phrase: "Honey, you should see me in a (night)glown" and I regret nothing.


End file.
